JASMINE IN MY MIND

How I view things at the moment, how I respond to life’s unpredictability, and where I take my strength to be in good stead amid challenges all constitute one divine grace. Somehow I keep losing track of my direction. But as others would blurt out when faced with a similar situation, “every cloud has a silver lining.” Sounds cliche, trite or something but time and again – HE made it sure that I own this one solid truth – I am HIS child and I will be protected no matter what. And for that I will forever be thankful and glorious of His name!

Bago ang Babae.
- Rebecca Anonuevo

Mabuti na lang at sa panahong ito ako
Ipinanganak na babae.
Hindi ko kailangang manahimik
Kung kailangang magsalita.
Hindi ko kailangang magsalita
Kung nais kong manahimik.
Hindi ko kailangang ipaliwanag
O hindi ipaliwanag ang bawat pagpapasiya.
Hindi ko kailangang sumunod sa inaasahan
Ng lahat, tulad ng pag-aasawa.
Kung mag-asawa man ako’y
Di ko kailangang magpasukob,
Hindi ko kailangang matakot,
Kung dumating ang araw ng pagkabalo,
O kailangan nang makipaghiwalay.
Hindi ko kailangang magkaanak ng labis
Kahit kaya ko itong panagutan.
Hindi ko kailangang malugmok sa lungkot
Sakali’t hindi ako magkaanak.
Kung kailangan kong gampanan
ang pagiging ina at asawa,
Hindi ko kailangang humingi ng paumanhin,
Hindi ko kailangang panawan ng talino at lakas,
Hindi ko kailangang kalimutan ang lahat,
Hindi ko kailangang itakwil ang sarili,
Hindi ko kailangang burahin
Na isa akong tao,
bago isang babae.

My choice of music is what you’d call diverse. In terms of genre, I can go for pop, jazz, rhythm and blues, ethnic (when feeling artsy-fartsy), classical (esp. when I’m child-bearing), rock and roll, rap music, reggae, hiphop, or folk.

But if I am to choose the best musical era – it would be the 80s! All the songs then were good and heart-melting, the kind that you’d love to sing through and through. Timeless.

I was in grade school from mid to late 80s. It was a time when I had fun watching MTVs of The Jets, Paula Abdul, Starship, Janet Jackson, Rick Astley, Lisa Lisa, Whitney Houston, Klymaxx, Prince, Wilson Philipps, Madonna, Debbie Gibson, Tiffany, and a lot more. Perhaps it was also the same exposure that made me learn singing by heart. My aunts used to wonder why it seemed easy for me to register any song’s lyrics inside my head.

There’s one foreign singer I particularly liked. Her name is Elizabeth Wolfgramm, vocalist and member of defunct band The Jets. Recently though, I found out she was only 12 when she recorded “You got it All” that hit number 1 on the Billboard Adult Contemporary Charts and landed number 3 on the Pop Charts. Some says her voice resembles that of Anita Baker, only brighter. I must agree.

Whenever I listen to their songs, I feel like my 9 years old self again.

Another summer day has come and gone away
in Paris or Rome, but I wanna go home
maybe surrounded by a million people
I still feel alone, just wanna come home..
I miss you..you know

No one emerges unscathed in this battle field called life where we keep fighting for elusive dreams and ambitions, for a taste of power and success. Funny how we collect scars along the way. We literally are submerged in a life rife with drama, comedy, even horror and full-packed suspense/action thriller. These scars, however, are badges of honor that makes our character shinier, more beautiful.

There are two truths I wish to convey when it comes to problems, challenges, or issues we face as human beings. One, everybody has it; and two, having it can surely weigh you down. While it is true that we all encounter problems – there are no fail-safe strategies in countering ALL of them. You may be successful at solving a present challenge, but somewhere along the way another one is going to come up. That’s how things work dude. I have this weird picture of them queuing at a corner, debating who gets to bother you next. I have yet to see someone who rejoices after a malady, save for the loonies of course.

Normally, one who is beset by an unlikely situation will have an attitude tipping on the negative. Correct? One’s perspective may be influenced by a number of factors like upbringing, environment, education, culture, etc. They all play key roles in molding a person on how to address personal/relational issues.

How one deals with a challenge can also be influenced by its nature and gravity. Have you notice how an issue which means the WORLD to you appears MINUSCULE to another? Or those that seem too heavy for others to bear may not actually qualify as a problem in your case? Lately, I appreciated this even more. I was inspired as I read one author accentuate ‘managing’ a problem instead of ‘coping’. The latter connotes passivity as opposed to the term managing which implies power.

Sometimes, I still am defeated by mismanaged inner conflict. When I start mouthing hurtful words, I of course feel bad. Human nature? To err is human, to errs is humans. (I’m just kidding).

(TBC)

Wrote Gilda Cordero-Fernando in her Sunday PDI column:

“It isn’t one of my desires either to grow old contentedly rocking away in my soft comfortable chair. I still need to rock the boat, to dance up a storm, to venture into  project I’ve never tried, to fly!”

I want to clap my hands and beso-beso Ms. Gilda. That is one lovely aphorism I’d love to apply once I hit old age. Now where is that newspaper. I want to re-read the entire column but with the stack of papers inside this jungle that is my bed room, oh never mind.

Soul archaeology. No, this isn’t exactly your deeply-focused as in super-scholarly, super-academic type of archaeology. Fernando in this case was talking about the moulding of one’s unique personality as time goes by. How indeed? She said that it is more like a process or a stage by stage revelation and the shaping by your family, teachers, work environment, friends.

When you found out, how do you go about maintaining or protecting that unique personality of yours? I cannot say for sure. Perhaps I am still trying to figure out myself. Like I always say, I am a work in progress. (TBC)

Nothing flows out of my brain lately except for some crazy stuff that it doesn’t seem to run out of.  Rachelle, my former student and friend sent a text message a few minutes ago asking me why I am no longer blogging these days. Geez, wish I could tell her I need new sets of functioning brain cells.  Mine are rapidly reaching their full extinction level!

Good thing my eyes zoomed in on my beloved pens.  You see, aside from DVDs and books, pens are indispensable in my so-called life. I can survive even without hankies or combs, but not without it.

My friend Marj once wrote about hoarding things as a way to satisfy oneself or as a reminder that one is not poor. It may be so ingrained in our culture since most of us associate ‘more’ with ‘wealth’, following the dictum “the more, the merrier”. However,  I think it’s more of a ‘happiness’ issue in my case. It’s just a pen, right? But I am delighted owning as much. If there is such as thing as comfort food, then there’s a comfort possession too!

A budding advocate for minimalism, she was once my buddy in stashing our bags away with notebooks, journals, planners, and yes, pens! But while she’s already inching away from this habit, which I learned from her is a manifestation of depression era mindset, I’m stuck at having more. To think I never really use all of them. It’s the high, I guess, of owning every single color, texture, shape, so on and so forth.

Not surprisingly, my pencil case now brims with pens of varying colors! I remember my younger sister asking for my Pilot G-Tech once. But being the pen-addict that I am, I always have difficulty parting away with any of them. Settle for a no. But if you’re lucky enough and I won’t notice it, you can probably sneak  out with one or two.

I was dumbfounded to see an old issue of my alma mater’s literary journal lying next to my brother’s abandoned things upstairs. After his graduation last April, he packed all his important documents and left all those he deemed unnecessary for his next journey.

What a pleasant surprise the journal still existed after what, 16 years? My other mementos in college did not survive. They were either eaten by termites or destroyed by typhoons. The date said 1994. On its partly-torn cover are these words:  “The Knight MCMXCIV: A Revival (Literary Journal of The Pillars). The front page have my scribbles when I was 16 years old and only a college freshman, then a mind-boggling mathematical equation, and my little sister’s handwritten name. The back page contained what seems to be an acronym but whose meaning I can no longer recall to this day.

I flipped the pages and voila! There it was, the literary piece shining intensely like that burning bush on the ten commandments movie. Then the name: NSM. In my three and a half years in college (I graduated early by full-loading my subjects every semester), I never had the opportunity to get near him, much less get to know the guy or express how I adore his superb articles (read: him). But my friends were familiar with my loud shrieks each time a new literary issue’s released. I was that coward and poor in terms of emotional acuity!

Up until today, I am clueless as to why I have this thing with men who can write well. Don’t ever  wonder why I married a literary guy. Going back to the journal there’s this verse he wrote on page 25:

“full moon
watching her
follies
like raindrops

the moon
watches
raindrops
like her follies

a moon watching
raindrops like
a woman

laughing at
her follies.

And oh, by the way, he still writes. I recently found him on the blogosphere. *wink*wink*

Strange things do happen.

And I’m talking about supernatural (or paranormal) experience here. Cynics might pass this off as a product of a very fertile and overactive imagination, however, I am well aware of what transpired the other night. The truth is, you can label me among those “to see is to believe” bunch as I never really subscribe to anything unless I have solid proof to speak of. Besides, us people have been relying on science and the empirical  in explaining logically various phenomena for such a long time now.

And yes, I don’t forget that we live in a modern, technologically-advanced world. The realm of supernatural though is undeniably still a part of human history. I am in fact both fascinated and fearful of the notion that many other “entities” exist apart from humans. Even then, I never had an encounter of a similar kind until last night. It was indescribable.

All I know was that I’m half-asleep, half-conscious when a different kind of “presence” made itself evident. For the first time in my life, I felt what real fear is about. I started to scream but nothing came out of my mouth. My side of the bed felt cold as if I was covered with an ice-soaked blanket! I motioned to my daughter who was lying right next to me but I was immobile. I clutched to my pillow with all the force I could muster. When I sleep, I usually prop a pillow onto my head just to make sure that my cheek touches it.

My bed is positioned next to the television set. I noticed a shadow of somebody standing. I wasn’t really looking, it was my mind at work and all my senses. Then all of a sudden, my hair were standing on ends. In a matter of, I think ten minutes, it’s as if the shadow steadily landed itself between myself and the TV. I tell you its a creepy feeling. Not only that, I have heard the cling-clanging of my father-in-law’s tools and some metals downstairs. At 3 in the morning!

Perhaps it was my father in law who passed away a couple of months ago. Could he have been upset I was not able to make it during his 4oth day? I was in Cam Sur to spend vacation with my family. I wonder.

In the morning, I told Jun about it. He said, “buti di nagparinig sayo ng kung ano…” so I mentioned about the sound of metals. My husband was speechless. It turns out, my sister in law also had been hearing similar things and had been experiencing an olfactory form of haunting or whatever it is called.  I was told she often smells pungent urine.